“This time, lady, we’re the fire—and you aren’t coming out of it. Your phoenix is just another dead bird.” Checker grabbed her shoulder to stop her advance.
“Don’t you ever touch me! I am the queen,” she screamed, and spun toward him, swinging her right arm to slap his face.
He caught the oncoming swing, grabbing her arm with his left hand in midair. She pulled at his grip and cursed.
“Be glad you’re not a man, Holt. I’ve never hit a woman, but I’d make an exception in your case.”
Aleta came behind him, leading her horse. “Ranger Checker, these ees woman’s work. Let me take her to jail. Ees bueno?”
“I’d like that, Aleta. Thank you. I’ve about had it with this piece of British crap.”
The Mexican beauty stepped next to Lady Holt and delivered a savage slap across the evil rancher’s face. Lady Holt staggered and grabbed her pained cheek.
“Now, senorita, do you want to go to thees jail easy—or hard? Eet makes no difference to me.” In Aleta’s other hand was one of her revolvers.
Holding her reddened face, Lady Holt bit her lower lip, whimpered and started walking toward the jail. Hurrying down the sidewalk came Margaret Loren, her own face flushed.
“Miss? Miss? May I help you? I own the dry goods place up the street—and I’ve waited a long time for this day.” She motioned toward Lady Holt and produced a short-barreled revolver from beneath her apron.
“Gracias, senorita.”
Aleta started again, with Margaret beside her, moving the distraught Lady Holt toward the jail with jabs of their guns in her back.
“Riders coming!” Rule said, looking behind them.
Emmett, Rikor and Morgan led another bunch of Rangers—and Charlie Carlson and his six cowboys—into Caisson. Checker and Spake waved at their Ranger friends, part of Captain Poe’s main force. They had heard of the trouble and come to help, ignoring Poe’s wire demands that his men stay out of the complicated situation.
Immediately, Emmett spotted Aleta and Margaret taking Lady Holt to jail. His worried exclamation about where his boys were was answered by Rule. Both sets of children were fine and with the Morrisons, who were staying with them at the Cordells’ home. He explained they were a black family who had become their friends.
Emmett swallowed what he was about to say and, instead, asked what had happened. They had decided not to go on to Morgan’s ranch, but to come to Caisson to help. London Fiss’s body was left where it was, for later caring. They just couldn’t ride away and leave the trouble to Checker and Rule.
Jumping down and leaving the reins on the ground, Morgan ran toward Checker. She flung herself into his arms. At that moment, Jaudon pulled free the holstered pistol from the distracted Ranger next to him. Morgan stiffened as the bullet hit her, instead of Checker, and she slumped in his arms.
Checker, Rule and Spake fired at the Frenchman at almost the same instant. The lead impact lifted him from his saddle and his frightened horse bolted down the street as Jaudon slammed against the earth and was still. The Ranger next to him jumped down and ran toward the dying Morgan. He was crying.
Spake yelled at three men to find the doctor and they galloped away. Rule went over to examine the bullet-riddled Jaudon. No one saw a hungover Wilson Tanner slip toward the livery. With him was Alex Wilkerson, the banker and mayor.
Checker knelt in the street, cradling the young woman he loved. Jaudon’s bullet had struck her heart and he knew it. Tearing off his neckerchief, he wadded the cloth and held it against the seeping wound.
“M-Morgan, hold on. Hold on. W-we’ll get the doctor here.” He touched her cheek as his eyes welled with tears.
She grabbed his arm and her eyes fluttered open. “M-my d-dearest John…I—I w-wanted…a l-life with…y-you.”
“Morgan, please! I love you,” Checker declared as tears trembled down his face.
“I…I…l-love you.” Her hand slid from his arm and she was still.
Chapter Forty-two
Two weeks later, a somber John Checker and Rule Cordell walked into the governor’s outer office.
“We need to see Citale.” Checker’s growl was a bowie knife.
“Ah…ah, the governor is busy right now. May I tell—”
Neither paused as they pushed open the door and walked into the governor’s office. The stocky assistant scurried from his desk, wiping back his hair as he moved. Rule’s glare stopped him.
“I…ah, go in. P-please…sirs.”
The gaunt governor looked up, his face rich with annoyance at being disturbed. Captain Poe was sitting across from Citale’s desk. Next to him was a well-dressed businessman. Checker reached under his Comanche tunic and pulled free an envelope.
“What in the world? These two are wanted murderers. Arrest them, Poe.”
“Don’t even think about it, Poe.” Checker’s hard face attacked the Ranger captain with his eyes. “I’ve had more of you than I can handle.” He walked over to the surprised governor’s desk and tossed the envelope on his desk.
“Here’s your train ticket. To New Orleans,” the tall Ranger said. “You are resigning as of right now. Lieutenant Governor Morse will assume leadership. He’s waiting outside—with half of Captain Temple’s Ranger force. The other half are taking prisoners to prison. All of them are criminals you made into Rangers.” The heat of his glare made the governor look away.
“What the hell are you clowns talking about? Get out of here,” the balding, narrow-faced governor said. “Can’t you see I’m having a meeting with one of my Ranger captains…and, and an important citizen of the state? They are asking me to run for the U.S. Senate.”
Checker reached across the desk, grabbed the governor by his shirt and yanked him to his feet. “I only see a spineless son of a bitch who has no business in this office or any other—or the state of Texas.”
“Ranger Checker, this is extremely out of order,” Captain Poe said, waving his arms.
“Shut up, Poe—or you’re leaving, too.”
Standing in the doorway, Rule recited what had taken place in Caisson—and that the Rangers waiting outside, and in Caisson, were waiting to be officially reinstated. The new governor would be doing that. He would also be dropping the charges against Captain Temple and officially restoring him to his proper rank and authority
“Lots of changes in Caisson and around there,” Rule said. “Town’s looking for a new bank owner. New saloon owner, too. Could use an attorney—and somebody who knows about land titles and the like.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “They’re going to vote on a new sheriff. Spake is serving as their lawman for now. Same with the mayor. Mrs. Loren’s the acting mayor. I’m sure she’ll be voted in. Going to get a new town council while they’re at it. Oh yeah, the new city judge is, oh, I can’t think of his name, he owns the gun shop.”
The gunfighter glanced at Checker, returned his attention to Citale and Poe. “Holt’s ranch is going to be split up. Pieces sold off. Emmett Gardner and Charlie Carlson are buying pieces. Others, too. Judge Jones is overseeing the effort.”
Checker shoved his hands into his gun belt. “Holt’s servants and chef have left. Gave each one a month’s salary. From her account. Looks like there’s going to be enough left over to build a church. My friend has agreed to be their preacher until they get one of their own.”
“That big herd’s being divided among the new owners,” Cordell added. “Not sure what’s going to happen to her foreman. He’s not wanted, though. He and his men were real cowmen. Heard he was going to buy a chunk of her land. Don’t know that for certain.”